


and if you were by my side

by OnyxSphynx



Series: newmann one-shots [20]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Not Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018) Compliant, Pining, Post-Drift (Pacific Rim), Post-Operation Pitfall (Pacific Rim), duh - Freeform, on hermann's part at least, uprising & co dni
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphynx/pseuds/OnyxSphynx
Summary: Hermann is avoiding any mention of the Drift. Newt doesn't know why.





	and if you were by my side

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon prompt: "Prompt: “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”"

“Hermann,” Newt says, “this morning I spent an hour reliving our first meeting.” Hermann raises a brow, unimpressed. “…I saw it through your eyes,” Newt says, softly. “I’m—I’m sorry, Hermann, for what I said.”

Hermann freezes. “You should get your beaker off of the burner before it overflows,” he says, dodging Newt’s question. Newt turns around, almost giving himself whiplash, and rushes over to the burner where, like Hermann warned, the experiment is bubbling violently.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hisses, grabbing a pair of hot-mitts and pulls it off of the burner, letting out a sigh of relief when the bubbling lessens. “Thanks, Herms,” he says, “‘cause if that had exploded, the lab would’ve burnt down.”

Hermann nods and redirects his attention to his paper. Newt dismisses the change of subject as merely concern on Hermann’s part.

Then it happens again, though. Newt’s standing, this time, next to Hermann; they’re waiting for Hermann’s notes on a new coding project of his to load up onto the computer from his flash-drive, and—

> —his gaze blurs, the colors fading and his skin is too tight for his massive form, the thin human epidermis feeling like it’s going to burst with massive silicate muscles—
> 
> —he’s suddenly gangly, fingers burnt at the tips from copper electrical wires, the sense of  _shame_ and  _worthlessness_ as his leg flares up, the pain making him stumble, why can’t his body just  _work—_

“—Newton! Newton!” Hermann’s shaking his shoulders frantically, a hand at his pulse. “Are you alright?”

“Nng,” Newt groans, “…’m fine. I think? What—what happened?” His head’s pounding, and his vision is doubling, somehow, and  _he’s_  staring at himself, but he’s also  _at_ himself—

_God, that’s trippy._

Hermann’s worried face hovers in front of his. “You froze for a moment, and then you—you started seizing.” His hand hovers over Newt’s cheek, expression vulnerable and open, and Newt’s breath hitches. Then the moment passes, and he says, brusquely, “You should go to medical to get it checked out.”

“Hey, wait I just ghost-Drifted with you—aren’t we going to talk about this?” Newt questions, but Hermann’s already pushed himself to his feet, halfway across the room.

After he goes to medical, gets subjected to multiple tests and brain-scans, they clear him as mentally sound, but the doctor in charge fixes him with a stern glare, and says, in a no-nonsense tone, “Bed rest, Doctor Geiszler—two days minimum.”

Newt gives a tight-lipped smile. “Yep, sure.”

“Geiszler…” she warns. “If I have reason to believe you will ignore my orders, I have the clearance to keep you confined to medical for two days.”

Newt raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, I get the message, doc, loud and clear. Two days bed rest. Got it.” He shoots her a nervous look, praying that it’ll work. Thankfully, it does, and he’s allowed to leave.

Bed-rest, as it turns out, means that as soon as Hermann finds out about his orders—which is to say, within hours—he’s forced into bed, piled under three different blankets, Hermann hovering around his quarters.

Throughout it all, Hermann studiously avoids talking about  _why_ he’s confined to bed-rest. Newt lets out a sigh. “If…if you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t,” he says. “I—I don’t know why you don’t want to talk about—about our Drift, but just…talk to me, Hermann.” He hesitates, continues, “Just…tell me what you want, Hermann. I’m not a mind-reader.”

Hermann freezes, pill-bottle falling from his loose fingers. “Hermann?” Newt ventures, “are you—are you alright?”

“…what did you see in the Drift?” Hermann questions, voice quiet. 

“Um,” Newt pauses. “Well, I mean, not a ton—mostly just memories of you as a kid, some from when you were in uni…oh, and that one about our first meeting. I…” he trails off. “I’m sorry about that, Hermann, I was a total jerk to you.”

Hermann refuses to meet his gaze. “We were both young and foolish. I was simply…over-expectant. You needn’t apologize.”

Newt stares at him, confused at the odd undertone to his voice. “What do you mean, “over-expectant”?” He shifts, trying to catch Hermann’s eyes, but the other turns, shoulders stiff. “Hermann?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hermann says, voice wavering. “Please, Newton. I…” he rises, drags a hand across his face. “It’s getting late. I should—I should get back to my own quarters,” he says stiffly. “Good night, Newt—Doctor Geiszler.”

“Doct—” Newt gapes at him. “What are you—” but he’s already gone, leaving Newt reeling like he’s been back-handed. The pill bottle lays on the ground a few feet away from his bed, and Hermann’s left a cup of tea on the counter. Newt’s lip trembles, and he pulls the covers around himself, pressing his face into the pillow.

* * *

When Newt’s bedrest is over, he returns to the lab. The Line of Demarcation has been removed, but he remembers where it was vividly. Despite the lack of the physical divider, however, the proverbial one is chasmic. In an attempt to win back Hermann’s favor—the  _Doctor Geiszler_ rings in his ears, like they’re back in ‘20, Hermann forcing the barrier of professionalism back into place—he keeps his mess to his side of the lab, plays music with his ear-buds in, and doesn’t pester Hermann.

It’s…it’s painful, honestly, because sometimes Newt will get an idea, and he’ll look up, mouth opening to shout it at Hermann, before he remembers that Hermann probably  _does not care_. The only reason he’s sticking around is likely some misplaced sense of responsibility towards Newt. 

“Newton?” Hermann asks, tentatively, as Newt’s putting a few test-tubes into the cooler. 

Newt turns to face him. “What?” he asks, tiredly. “I’m following proper procedure, du—Doctor Gottlieb. Nothing’s going to explode, I promise. I may be an inept Kaiju groupie, but I can follow safety procedure, so…” he shrugs.

“Inept Kaiju—what are you  _talking_ about?” Hermann questions, brow furrowed. Newt gives a self-deprecating laugh.

“I know what people say about me, Herm—Doctor Gottlieb,” he corrects himself. “It’s okay, I don’t blame them—I don’t blame you. Just…” he pauses. “Just tell me whatever it is so we can go back to normal.”

“Normal?” Hermann breathes. “You think this is—this is  _normal_? Newton, I—”

Newt waves him off. “It’s fine. I get it. I’ll…I’ll be more professional,” he promises. “You won’t even notice I’m here, I swear—”

“Damn it, Newton that’s not what I want!” Hermann snaps, jaw clenched. “I don’t want you to—to—” he stops, lips pursed tightly. “I just want to—I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Newt replies. “Now you’ve done your obligatory check-up on me, Doctor Gottlieb, you can—”

Hermann cuts him off with a growl, grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him close. “ _Listen_ to me, you aggravating man, I’m not asking because I feel obligated to, I’m asking because I’m your  _friend_ and I care about your well-being!”

Newt gapes at him. “But—I thought—”

“Well you thought wrong!” Hermann snaps. “Of course I care about you, Newton, I thought you  _knew_ that by now! I Drifted with you, you moron!”

“You didn’t have a choice,” Newt says, weakly. “I—”

“Shut  _up and listen_!” Hermann demands, and Newt’s mouth snaps closed. “I care about you, Newton, more than I can comprehend. I…please, just tell me what’s wrong.” A bit of the fight goes out of his voice, and he lets go of Newt, stumbling back. “I—I apologize—”

“No, wait, Hermann—” Newt reaches out, grasping Hermann’s arm. “I—I thought you wanted to go back to—I thought you finally decided that I was too close. I thought you wanted to go back to a purely professional relationship. I didn’t…”

“No, why—?” Hermann asks, puzzled.

“When I…when I was assigned bed rest,” Newt says, quietly. “You—I asked you about our first meeting, and you…you called me “Doctor Geiszler”.”

“Oh,” Hermann says, faintly. “I—I…” he trails off, gaze fixed on the floor. “I was trying to remind myself that…that certain lines shouldn’t be crossed.”

Newt’s breath hitches. “What lines?” Hermann refuses to meet his searching gaze, and it all suddenly clicks. Barely believing it, Newt asks, “Do you…do you have romantic feelings for me?” 

Hermann freezes, head turned away, as if expecting—what? “Oh, Hermann,” Newt says, “that’s—is that why you freaked out when I tried to bring up the Drift? Because you were afraid I’d—what, mock you for it?”

“…yes.” It’s barely a whisper, but Hermann’s eyes are wet when he meets Newt’s.

“I would  _never_ ,” Newt says, “I would  _never_ do that, Hermann, not to anyone and definitely not to you, okay? And I…” he pauses. The feelings are there—they’ve been there for years. He just never had a name for them, until now. “I care for you too, Hermann, a lot, more than…more than I can comprehend,” he says, softly, echoing Hermann’s words.

Hermann gazes at him, eyes wide with surprise, and croaks, “I…you do?”

“I do,” Newt confirms, pulling him in for a hug. Hermann rests his head on Newt’s shoulder, a hesitant smile on his lips. The expression melts Newt’s heart, and, almost unconsciously, he returns the smile.


End file.
